


Anything to Make You Smile

by Two_for_Slashing



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: I mean seriously Kevin Hayes is all over this fic, M/M, Pining, boys being stupid, especially Kevin Hayes, there is so much Kevin Hayes you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_for_Slashing/pseuds/Two_for_Slashing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you ever notice that JT doesn’t smile a lot?”</p><p>Kevin’s brow furrowed as he cocked his head to the side.  “Uhm, well, yeah, he’s JT Miller.  JT’s never smiling, not even when he gets a goal.”</p><p>*EDITED 2017*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything to Make You Smile

**Author's Note:**

> One time I was at a Rangers game and I saw JT and Chris shoving each other around on the ice and I saw that JT was actually smiling while he pushed Chris around - and amongst thoughts of "OMG HOW CUTE I DIDN'T KNOW THEY HAD A BROMANCE AW" I thought to myself "Well look at that. Chris Kreider can get JT Miller to actually smile" - and then I immediately started shipping them together. Because JT Miller doesn't really smile all that much, but Chris Kreider can get him to, and that's a beautiful thing.
> 
> For the record: I have never played NHL 15, and the game against the Flyers that is briefly mentioned did not actually happen, so there might be unintentional inaccuracies with those. I also have no idea if Chris and Kevin live together, but they have their BC connection, and that's more than enough reason to stick them in the same apartment.
> 
> Title and opening quote taken from "No One's Gonna Love You" by Band Of Horses.
> 
>  
> 
> **Update 2017: Fixed a little bit of this story - went back, did some basic editing, and tweaked the ending a bit to make Chris and JT a bit more...in character, I suppose. Parts of this story always bothered me and even though it's not my best work I'm happy enough to leave it up, especially with these edits. So once again, enjoy!**

_And anything to make you smile  
It is a better side of you to admire_

Chris was a man on a mission, even though that mission was a half-formulated plan he was slowly piecing together over a steaming bowl of oatmeal and blueberries. He had his laptop open to the Rangers blog, clicking through the photographs taken from the previous night’s game, a 2-0 shutout against the Flyers with goals by Marty and Nash. There were tons of shots of Zucc and Staalsie and the goal scorers mid-and-post cellies, and a few of him with his mouth wide open in celebration. Chris frowned, clicking quickly past those. He didn’t really need to see any more silly pictures of his face. There were way too many of those on the Internet as it was.

A loud groaning noise dragged Chris’ attention away from the picture he had been staring at for a few minutes. He glanced over his shoulder; Kevin Hayes rolled onto his side, rubbing at his eyes, shifting his legs into the fetal position. He had fallen asleep on the couch after they had gotten home from the game last night, flopping face first into the cushions in his suit and shoes – Chris had no idea why he didn’t walk the extra two feet to his bedroom and just collapse there, but he didn’t understand Kevin’s quirks when they were BC Eagles and he sure as hell wasn’t going to try to understand them now. 

Kevin cracked an eye open and groaned even louder, covering his face. “I fucking hate that window,” he muttered, rolling in the opposite direction away from the light. Chris shrugged, taking another spoonful of oatmeal. He had picked an apartment that had good natural light for a reason, and it wasn’t his problem if Kevin hated it. He could move in with Duclair if it became that big of a deal.

“Do you want breakfast?”

He heard a thump, and then Kevin was next to his shoulder. “Only if you’re cooking it for me.” He leaned down, squinting at Chris’ laptop. “What the hell are you looking at a picture of JT for?”

“I’m looking at all of our pictures,” Chris said, switching quickly to a picture of Jesper. “I always look at the shots they get at games.”

Kevin had lumbered over to the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors until he found a bowl. “Dude, I was watching you from the couch. You were totally staring at JT.” He slid into the seat across from Chris. “How come?”

Chris felt the breath catch in his throat. He didn’t like the way Kevin was looking at him, a surprisingly smug look on his face even though his eyes were still glazed over with sleepiness and he was having a hard time getting the oatmeal into his mouth. “No reason.” He looked back at the picture of Jesper, trying to stare at it with the same concentration he had been giving JT’s shot. 

“Dude, stop making that face. You look like you’re trying to take a shit or something.” Chris frowned, throwing a glare at Kevin, who was smiling widely. He was clearly undeterred by Chris’ attitude. That wasn’t a good thing. 

“So are you going to tell me you guys weren’t flirting during warmups yesterday?”

Yes, yes he was. “We weren’t flirting during warmups.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “You guys were shoving each other around on the ice. It was kinda adorable, actually.”

Chris waved his hand dismissively. He was feeling oddly warm, but as long as his face wasn’t coloring he didn’t care. “So? Hags and Zucc do that all the time.”

“I'll give you that." Kevin shoveled steaming oatmeal into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "But when is JT ever playful?” he asked, not even bothering to cover his full mouth with his hand. Chris grimaced. It looked like today was going to be one of those mornings where Chris really regretted letting Kevin use their whole BC brotherhood connection as a reason to crash indefinitely in his guest bedroom. Or on his couch, apparently. 

Chris powered down his laptop, closing it as he gathered up his empty bowl. "Who taught you manners?" he asked, making his way towards the dishwasher. He could feel Kevin’s eyes on him while he was at the sink. “Bring your stuff over when you’re finished,” he muttered, refusing to look over his shoulder. “I’ll do the dishes.”

He heard the sound of Kevin’s stool scraping against the floor and then a shadow was cast over his shoulder. Kevin nudged him gently out of the way with his elbow, taking the liquid soap out of Chris’ hand. “I can clean up after myself,” he said softly, smiling tentatively at Chris. Chris looked down at his feet, feeling oddly bashful. “Hey,” Kevin nudged him again. “I’m not trying to make fun of you or anything. If you have a thing for JT, that’s cool. I don’t care.”

Chris looked up, meeting Kevin’s gaze. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something but he found he had no words, so he shrugged, feeling helpless in a way he wasn’t used to and didn’t like. Kevin watched him with narrowed eyes. “Is it a mutual thing?”

Chris shook his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it.” His heart panged slightly when the words escaped his mouth, when his brain registered what he was admitting by saying it. “I don’t even know what started it.”

He was lying. He knew exactly what started it, and when it had started, and what kept what had started from stopping. JT was never really playful, Kevin was right about that. He was also extremely moody, always frowning, and tended to hog the puck at practice and during games, which never sat well with any of them, especially AV and Marty. But Chris had known JT when they played together in the AHL, even though JT had been pretty much the same down there as he was up in the city. He knew that if you got him in the right mood, JT could be playful and funny and just plain fun. They had gotten along well, JT choosing Chris as worthy of his free time over most of the other guys from the Wolf Pack, and that had made Chris feel special, as stupid as Chris knew that was. 

What had started it was the thing JT rarely did, even when he was having good days. It was the thing Chris had been looking for in the photographs on his laptop even though he knew he wasn’t going to find it, and the thing that Chris was formulating a plan around, even though he didn’t know if he could actually accomplish his goal. 

“Do you…” He paused, sucking in a breath. Kevin was still staring at him with an intense gaze, but his eyebrows were now raised. Chris surmised it had something to do with how hesitant he was being. Which he shouldn’t have been, because he was talking to Kevin Hayes of all people, but this…was a big deal, actually. He had never really talked to anyone about his fostering feelings, but here he was, about to confess something to his brother in both maroon and gold and blue, red, and white. It was momentous in a way Chris hadn’t had happen in his life before. He didn’t know any other way to deal with it outside of just going for it. 

“Do you ever notice that JT doesn’t smile a lot?”

Kevin’s brow furrowed as he cocked his head to the side. “Uhm, well, yeah, he’s JT Miller. JT’s never smiling, not even when he gets a goal.”

That was a good point, actually. Chris made a mental note to file that tidbit away until he had time to ponder over it later. “But you saw us, last night on the ice, right?”

“I mean I saw him shove you and watched you push him back but I wasn’t, like, trying to read his facial expressions or anything.”

Chris thought he had seen it - JT Miller’s elusive smile, for the briefest moment the night before. He hadn’t been paying attention to him, too distracted by Staalsie stretching on the ice to take in what was around him (Marc was flexible as all hell, and Chris had found himself thinking that if Marc wasn’t married that he would totally go after that. And he had had that thought more than once, but only under pain of death would he ever admit it). But then he had felt JT shove his shoulder, gentle in a way JT never was, and he had turned to shove him back, and he thought he had seen what looked like a smile, but JT was turning away from him, and it was gone faster than it had appeared, if it had even appeared at all. JT had come back for a second round of playful shoving, muttering quietly to Chris about an exercise Jesper was doing with Klein. Chris had only been half-listening to JT, too distracted by his own thoughts.

JT had genuinely smiled at him once before. He had smiled at him more than once, but they were usually closed-off, tight-lipped smiles that barely uplifted the corners of his mouth and lacked that genuineness that Chris was always searching for. But that one other time, that one other time when he had actually smiled at him? Chris had thought he was hallucinating, he was caught so off guard. He didn’t even remember what had caused it, something really stupid probably, but JT had looked at him, letting out a laugh and then full-on smiled at him, showing off his teeth and everything, a grin that reached all the way to his eyes. 

Chris knew he was gone on him right then and there. Looking back at that day, Chris was aware he had been gone on him for a while before that, but it was that precise moment that the realization hit him and he had felt as breathless as he did when he took a hard check into the boards. The ache he had felt afterwards hurt just as much too. 

“I think he smiled at me. Last night. On the ice.”

“Okay?” Kevin looked confused. Chris couldn’t blame him.

“Well, he doesn’t do that a lot. But he’ll smile at me.” 

“So you like him because he smiles at you? That’s weird, dude, but I’ve heard weirder.” Kevin patted Chris on the shoulder, moving towards the fridge. 

Chris rolled his eyes as Kevin grabbed a water and made for the couch. “I didn't think you'd get it but it's not that big of a deal. JT’s coming over soon anyway. We’re going to play NHL 15 and try to recreate the Stanley Cup Finals, but this time with the Rangers winning.”

Kevin snorted, looking up at Chris. “One, God you two are lame. I mean, you could be trying to get him to read some Russian lit with you, but NHL 15? _Really?_ Two, I'm insulted. I do get it. You’ve got a thing for JT, and you like his smile, and you think maybe he likes you because he smiles at you. I get that. I watch romcoms too sometimes."

Chris tried to feign a look of amazement. "And that's where you get your brilliant deductive skills from?"

Kevin took a swig of water, giving Chris a look conveying that he knew he was being mocked. "Sorry I don't like reading like you do. But look at it this way. At least you guys, you know, get along though, and already have a friendship established.”

He had a point, and Chris was willing to give him that much. “You’d be surprised at how close we are.” Well, close for JT Miller standards. He didn’t text Chris with his deepest darkest secrets at 3AM in the morning or anything like that, but they chatted on and off throughout the day and JT hung out with Chris the most – with the exception of Jesper, but they were roommates after all. 

“I am, actually, and I don’t even have anything to base that on.” He lifted the water to his lips and took another swig. “Anyway-”

The sound of a fist pounding on the front door caused Chris to start. He stumbled slightly, thinking he should make it to the front door, but then he heard Kevin shout “It’s open!” as JT appeared in the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Chris whipped his head around to glare at Kevin, mouthing _You didn’t close the fucking door last night?_ while Kevin shrugged and grinned smugly at him. Chris couldn't help it as he cursed BC several times before he turned to address JT – and found that he was already standing at his shoulder, gaze flickering between him and Kevin.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, Kevin’s just being an idiot as usual,” Chris muttered as he moved towards the TV to boot up his PlayStation. “Do you want to be us or LA?”

“I don’t care. It’s your game. You pick first.” JT slid onto the floor infront of the couch, adjusting his cap. 

“You know I'm not picking LA.”

"That's too bad because I'm going to be the Rangers."

"Except you're not."

"Oh yeah? You wanna bet on that?"

Chris raised his eyebrows. He _would_ bet on that, but totally not in the way JT was thinking.

“Really?” Kevin leaned forward to look at Chris. "And you say I'm the idiot." He shoved his hands into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’m gonna flip a coin. Chris is heads, JT is tails. Okay, heads up, Chris you get to be LA. JT, you’re us, try not to fuck it up too much.” Chris watched as JT frowned while Kevin stood, stretching slightly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go into my room for a few minutes, and then I’m gonna go lift weights with Duc. I’ll be gone for an hour, maybe two.” He looked pointedly at Chris for a moment. “Just so you know. And then I will be back.” He reached out a hand towards JT. “Miller Time.”

“Hayes.” They bumped fists, and then Kevin meandered towards the bedrooms. 

“He’s weird,” JT commented flatly, watching Kevin’s retreating back.

“That’s an understatement,” Chris muttered. He dragged the controllers with him as he leaned back against the foot of the couch next to JT. “He could be worse.”

“That’s also an understatement.” Chris grinned at JT, who gave him a small tight-lipped smile in return. It was not the smile he wanted to see, but it was a start, and it was better than nothing. Chris could see the genuineness in his eyes, and that was what mattered most.

JT shoved him slightly. “Why are you staring at me, Kreider?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Am I distracting you?”

Chris turned away, sucking in a breath. “Cool it, Miller,” he shot back, knocking their knees together, hoping his face was still pale. “Try not to lose to me too badly, okay?”

“If you’re as horrible at this game as you are as a Ranger, I’m not worried.” He kicked Chris in the foot. “We all know I got called up by AV for my superior skills. 'Bout time he saw the light.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Chris muttered as he opted to play as Anze Kopitar. “I’ll be laughing at you for weeks when you get sent back down to Hartford.”

JT smirked, shrugging a shoulder. He scrolled through the Rangers roster, and Chris balked when he saw his pixelated face appear on his large HD TV. He knew that they wouldn’t have a great resemblance to his game-self, but the animators had over-exaggerated a few of his facial features to the point of embarrassment and Chris was not okay with that at all. “Okay, we’ll see if you’re as good as you think you are,” JT replied calmly. “I’m gonna try my best, but I’m not expecting to win this game at all.”

“You're a horrible person,” Chris stated. The game loaded, and the Kings had the puck first.

“At least I’m not Hayes.”

“He’d probably be more fun than you right now.”

“That doesn’t sound desperate at all.”

“I refuse to comment on that.” He saw JT’s lips quirk slightly out of the corner of his eye, and a warm feeling settled within Chris’ chest.

They were in a fierce battle of hockey, the two teams tied, Kevin having slammed the door loudly as he thumped out of the apartment a little over an hour before. Chris was playing his heart out, even if that meant playing against a pixelated version of himself that he was convinced JT was going out of his way to play horribly with. He could tell JT had figured out that he knew, mostly by the constant chirping and smug look he had been wearing the entire time they were playing.

“Why did you just run into Quick?” Chris sat up straight, gawking at the screen. There was pixelated-Chris, lying ontop of Jonathan Quick within the net, the refs rushing over while the pixelated Rangers and Kings stood around them.

JT tilted his head back slightly, leveling Chris with a knowing look. “What? I’m just playing like you would if this were a real game. Too bad we didn’t decide to reenact the games against Montreal, but I’m working with what I’ve got.”

“You. Are. A. Horrible. HORRIBLE. Person.” Chris jabbed JT in the shin with his foot as he enunciated each word. “You do know that there are people who still think I did that on purpose, right?”

“Really? But Price forgave you and everything.”

“I know, but they don’t care. They keep calling me ugly goalie killer Crisp Kreider and saying they want me to die.” Chris focused back on the game, maneuvering Anze around Klein and Girardi. He had just missed a goal when he noticed that the Rangers weren’t following him as closely as they should be. He looked over at JT.

JT was staring at him, the controller lying untouched in his lap. There was no expression on his face, but his eyes were soft as he met Chris’ gaze. They did not look away for a moment, barely even blinking, when Chris inhaled suddenly, the tension pressing like a visible weight against his chest. He shifted slightly, looking away, intending to say “What?”, but the word came out as a whisper.

“They really call you ugly goalie killer Crisp Kreider?”

Chris raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised that JT was still stuck on that nickname. “I guess so.” He nodded back at the game. “Pretty appropriate for this situation, right?”

JT stared at him for a moment longer, his eyes still soft, when he chuckled suddenly, trying to cover his mouth with his fist – but that didn’t matter. Chris saw it anyway. He saw the way his lips parted to reveal his very white teeth, he saw the way his mouth curved upwards, saw the way his cheeks flushed the slightest tinge of pink. But most importantly he saw the way his eyes lit up, just a bit more than they already had been, but the smile was on his face and in his eyes and Chris felt his heart constrict as he struggled to remember to breathe. They were sitting as close as they had been before, but Chris could tell that something was changing. He could feel it in air between them, in the heat thrumming from his and JT’s bodies. He was gone, so gone for JT and his elusive smile and stupid attempts at insults and being funny.

The sound died out around them, and JT leaned his head back against the couch, his eyes once again locking with Chris’. They were silent for a few moments, the energy pulsing between them, when Chris leaned forward, just a little bit, and said, in a very serious tone, “You should do that more often.”

A perplexed look flitted across JT’s face. “Do what?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused, but Chris never gave him his answer, choosing to close the distance between them instead as he pressed their lips together.

He could feel JT freeze up for a moment, feel the motion that was part of a gasp, but then the tension melted away and JT fisted both of his hands in Chris’ shirt, yanking him closer as he moved his mouth to respond to the kiss. Chris fought back a smile as he kissed JT, grasping the back of his neck with one hand and gripping his forearm with the other. He could not believe, could not even begin to comprehend that JT hadn’t pushed him away, was sitting here next to him, gripping onto him, kissing him back with as much force as he was kissing him. Chris was astounded by the amount of want he felt radiating from JT, tried to wrap his mind around the fact that JT probably actually totally was into this as much as Chris was, but then JT bit at his bottom lip and shoved his tongue inside of his mouth and Chris felt a white haze settle over his frazzled thoughts while he slipped one hand down and slid it up underneath JT’s shirt, stroking at the hot smooth skin of his back.

JT pulled back first, gasping, while Chris brushed their noses together, pressing a kiss against JT’s temple. He continued to stroke up and down JT’s back while JT dropped his forehead against Chris’ shoulder, clutching at his arms, his shoulders, his sides. They were quiet for a moment, breathing in fevered gasps of air, wrapping around each other more and more with each touch. Chris’ body was warm underneath JT’s hands, his head dizzy with a giddiness he had not felt since the day the Rangers became the Eastern Conference Champions. He pressed quick kisses to JT’s neck, relishing the way JT shivered with each brush of lip on skin, the soft sound he made when Chris bit gently on his collarbone. 

“I don’t agree with them,” he said suddenly, leaning back. Chris looked down at him, his hands now at JT’s side, rubbing the skin there. “Those people, who call you an ugly goalie killer? I don’t agree with them.”

Chris beamed, allowing the flush to settle across his cheeks as his heart hammered happily within his chest. “That’s good to know. Really good.” JT squeezed his shoulders gently in reply, moving his hands up to the sides of Chris’ neck. He could feel his fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck, tilting Chris’ head downwards towards JT’s waiting lips.

The door crashed open and they both jumped. Kevin strode in, stopping dead when he saw the scene in the den. “Oh my god. I told you two hours tops, Chris. You’re really taking advantage of my hospitality, dude. Oh my god. Why am I not going blind? What the fuck.” He turned and disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck is going on?" JT asked, leaning forward to peer down the hallway towards Kevin's bedroom. "Does he know?"

Chris knew what he wanted to think about that – he wanted to be angry, to get up and burst into Kevin’s room, to throw him out and tell him he could never come back, BC be damned. "He had theories, but I'll just leave it at that."

JT made a soft noise of confusion and shrugged, turning his attention back to Chris. He pressed himself against Chris' chest and began wrapping his fingers around Chris’ waist, and Chris knew he could be angry later, would chase down Kevin when JT was not there to hear the horrible things he would be saying. But now there was something else occupying him more than Kevin Hayes and his life-ruining ways, and that person was fumbling at the top buttons of his shirt, yanking back his shirt collar so he could suck gently on the sensitive skin of his neck.

The white haze settled into Chris' mind again, and he fisted JT’s shirt tightly in his palms. “So I guess that wasn’t a turn off?”

“Most days he'd be a boner-killer.” He fixed a serious look at Chris. "I've got other things to hold my attention."

Chris felt a twinge of want shoot through his body. "I'm guessing this is something I'm going to like?" he asked as JT begin to kiss his neck.

JT pulled back from Chris’ neck. “Yes,” he responded, tone as serious as the look on his face.

Chris cupped JT’s chin in his hand, tilting his head back. “Good,” he mumbled before kissing him again. This time, Chris could feel JT trying to fight back a smile, and he pulled him closer, kissing him harder.

Mission complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
>  
> 
> **Update 2017: OMG YOU GUYS REMEMBER WHEN DUCLAIR WAS A RANGER??? AND CARL HAGELIN WHO IS NOW A STANLEY CUP CHAMPION??? AND MARTY "I'M RETIRED" ST. LOUIS??? Good times.**


End file.
